My Mother, Part III: Thyra Dohrenburg

         My mother's family’s background, compared to my father’s was rather humble. At least on  her father’s side. He came from a long line of linen weavers which was a respectable craft  With the introduction of the modern looms  financial  hardship became the norm among the weavers. My mother always told how poor her father’s family was when he was a boy. He walked  barefoot during the warmer months to save the money for shoes.

     

         Usually boys from such a background did not even think of going to the gymnasium ,the school for higher learning which prepared you for the entrance into university. At that time the two persons with “education” in that village were the school teacher and the minister. Since  my grandfather  was an eager and talented student the teacher asked the minister to instruct him in those subjects he need ed in order to enter the gymnasium. The long  and the short of it is that from then on he  moved out of his poverty stricken environment,ending up as a postal official  of some sort. He died when I was three years old so I have no memory of him. But judging from the photo of him and my Danish grandmother  he must have been a very stern parent. Though also quite modern  and above all  very concerned  about broadening the minds of his children.

       For example, my mother belonged  to a small sewing circle which met once a week in alternating homes. When my grandfather was free from work he would often sit and read to the girls  to introduce  them to some work of German literature. Certainly no pulp fiction  for him or his daughter and her friends.

        At the secretarial  school (the Lette House) in town my mother met with a  quite different group of young women. All  of them were eager to learn a skill with which they could earn their own living, Many of them were jewish. All of them had very independent minds. I remember some of them from my early childhood,when one of them came visiting in Hamburg. There was always an atmosphere of excitement surrounding their visits. One of them I remember particularly vividly, Julia Koppel, on her way to England  to excape Hitler and his henchmen. Of course, there was political talk but also  much laughter. I secretely  wished I could go with her.

        Until Hitler came to power I never knew there were people who were jewish or what that really meant. Most of my parents friends belonged to the class of people Hitler declared jewish, therefore undesirable. Luckily, all of my parent’s friends had the means and opportunities to leave the country. Sad as it was for them, at least all of them survived . albeit  not in Germany.I have to confess that at the age of ten or eleven I felt pangs or jealousy seeing  so many people of our acquaintance pack up and leave. Why couldn’t we go to some other country?. It took a while until I realized how bad the situation was and not only for the people now called Jews.My parents had many artist friends,of whom many all of a sudden were not permitted to persue their profession. Their  work was considered  “entarted” (degenerate). One of them, the sculptor Friedrich Wield, comitted suiced  rather than do the Nazis bidding, whatever  they had in store for him to do instead of working on a sculpture. Once Hitler was in power it seemed he would always be in charge and have a grip on everything. Specially since he started marching into other countries.

          Until about twenty years ago I always thought my parents split up because of the age  difference, after all, my father was 23 years older than my mother. But now I think it was the general upheaval of the times.So my mother, my sister and I moved into town and my mother threw herself full –time into her profession as a translator and lector.